


Take These Broken Wings

by MademoiselleAbaisse



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Belly worship, Cue the body worship from Enjolras!, Grantaire is insecure, Kink Meme, M/M, Modern AU, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 13:48:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/812258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MademoiselleAbaisse/pseuds/MademoiselleAbaisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fill for this prompt on the kink meme:</p><p>"E/R, established relationship.</p><p>Grantaire has put on a little bit of weight from his drinking habits. It is for this reason, that every time Enjolras tries to engage in sexual activity with him, that he shies away. He also locks the door when he showers, sleeps in a t-shirt, etc.</p><p>Enjolras just thinks Grantaire doesn't want to have sex with him.<br/>Grantaire is afraid that Enjolras will think he's disgusting.</p><p>Cue a huge, emotional outburst, in which Enjolras is like "Please tell me what's wrong!" and Grantaire breaks down and tells him everything. Enjolras is incredulous, and takes it upon himself to worship every inch of Grantaire, to make him more secure and confident in his body."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take These Broken Wings

**Author's Note:**

> Welp. For some reason, I can't update the weight gain fics I've got, but I can write new ones? Sorry guys.

“Grantaire?” Enjolras called, knocking at the bathroom door, the sound of the shower most likely muffling his voice from the ears of the other man. “Grantaire, I left my watch on the counter! I have to leave for class soon!” no answer. “Grantaire?” he tried the door. Locked. That was unexpected, and Enjolras puzzled over this a moment. He didn’t understand. He and Grantaire had been together upwards of six months, and had been living together for at least half of that. They’d had nearly every possible kind of sex- manual, oral, anal, intercrural…yet in this moment, it occurred to Enjolras that he had never actually seen Grantaire naked. He had never really noticed before: he had always been quite caught up in the moment, but now it all became clear. When he fucked Grantaire, the cynic always elected to take it on his knees, facing away, with his jeans tugged down only enough to grant Enjolras freedom of movement. When Grantaire fucked Enjolras, he would strip the other man more thoroughly, so that he might gaze upon his Apollo as they coupled. But Grantaire remained clothed at all times. And what about the occasional quick blowjob in the back room of the Musain? Grantaire always ensured that only the most necessary bits of anatomy were accessible. So he certainly couldn’t be insecure about his endowment: for one, he had nothing to be insecure about. Secondly, Enjolras was certain he had seen Grantaire’s member more than any other hidden part of his body. So that couldn’t be it. His puzzlement was interrupted by the sound of the shower turning off, and he knocked again, considering the possibility that Grantaire hadn’t heard him over the sound of the water. “R?” he asked gently. “What?” came the reply, sounding rather miffed. Enjolras smiled.

“My watch. It’s on the counter…I’ve got to go to class soon…please open the door?”

There was silence on the other side, then a rustling noise, and the lock was unlatching, and there stood Grantaire, with a towel firmly wrapped around his chest, beneath his armpits, concealing everything from his collarbone to his thighs. Grantaire looked about as puzzled as Enjolras felt, albeit slightly more shaken. In fact, the artist had paled upon seeing Enjolras, and he instinctively clutched at the towel. “Have a good day at classes,” he said hastily, leaning up to peck Enjolras on the lips before rushing off down the hallway, clutching at his towel all the while. Enjolras watched him go in utter confusion. “I….will?” he called after his boyfriend’s retreating form, sighing as he heard their bedroom door slam. Odd. Definitely odd. Enjolras sighed, as he went about gathering his things for class. His watch went forgotten on the bathroom counter.

 

\------

 

When Enjolras returned home after classes, he found Grantaire sitting at the kitchen counter, scribbling away furiously in his sketchbook. “Hey!” he greeted Enjolras with a grin, looking up from his drawing. “I ordered Chinese food! Hope you don’t mind. It should be here in about 5 minutes.” Enjolras smiled and nodded. If he’d been confused when he left, he was utterly baffled now. How had Grantaire gone from looking so self-conscious that morning, to sitting here at their kitchen table, the perfect picture of self-assuredness? He didn’t understand.   
Enjolras set down his bag, and crept up behind the artist, pressing a kiss to his neck and stealing a glance at his sketchbook. Staring back at him from the page was a drawing of himself, uncanny in likeness. He smiled, continuing to press kisses along the column of Grantaire’s neck. “They’re brilliant, as always,” he told him, and he felt his artist shiver beneath him. Good. That was exactly what Enjolras wanted. He didn’t want to force Grantaire out of his comfort zone, by any means. But it occurred to him throughout the course of the day that much of the sexual interaction between them had been hurried, frantic, desperate. And tonight, he wanted to make love to Grantaire properly. Thoroughly. And he told him so, his lips pressed against his ear. He felt the artist tense beneath him, though from arousal or discomfort, he didn’t know. “Is that alright?” Enjolras murmured, gently turning Grantaire to face him. The cynic looked at him, perplexed. “What do you mean ‘properly’, Enj? We’ve had sex loads of times.”

Enjolras nodded. “True. We have. But think about it- Don’t get me wrong, every single one of those times has been great, and I wouldn’t take any of them back. But they were a means to an end. The end mattered more than the means. The destination mattered more than the journey. Tonight, I want to focus on you. On the journey. I want us to appreciate sensation, before we give in to it. Is that alright?”

Grantaire nodded tersely. “Yes. I….I suppose so.” He smiled up at Enjolras, though his smile was tight. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I’ve just never really thought about it like that before.”

Enjolras brushed a dark curl off the other man’s face. “Neither had I. It didn’t occur to me until today. But tonight, Grantaire, I’m going to spoil you. And that’s a promise.”

Grantaire let out a small squeak, which was overpowered by the sound of the doorbell. “Chinese food,” he managed, hurrying off to answer the door.

 

\-------

 

When the food had been eaten, and the dishes had been cleared, Enjolras led Grantaire to the bedroom with a smile, capturing his lips in a searing kiss as soon as they had passed the threshold. “Grantaire…” he sighed against his boyfriend’s lips. “I’ve wanted you like this for such a long time…I’ve wanted to give myself to you entirely, and you to me…” he cut himself off by kissing Grantaire again, and the artist was all too happy to comply. It was truly unfair, the kind of effect his Apollo had on him: he was already growing shamefully hard, and from what? A few kisses. Even if they were dirty, wonderful kisses. 

Suddenly, Grantaire froze. He felt Enjolras’ fingertips at the hem of his t-shirt, prising it upward, and- “Enjolras!” he heard his own voice before he could stop himself. He was clutching at the blond man’s wrists, in effort to stop him from what he had been about to do. Seeing Enjolras’ puzzled expression, Grantaire tried to shrug it off. “Erm…how about we turn the lights off, yeah?” he reached for the light-switch near his shoulder, but this time, it was Enjolras’ hand on Grantaire’s wrist stopping him. “Grantaire, what’s wrong?” he asked softly, his brows knit together in concern. “I don’t want to force you into anything. I mean…if you don’t want to sleep with me, I’m not going to make you. I care more about what you want than what I want. If you want us to stop, just say so. And we will. No harm done. No hard feelings.” He paused. “Grantaire, why are you laughing?”

“Because, Enjolras! How could you POSSIBLY think that I wouldn’t want to have sex with _you_?! Have you seen yourself? Have you seen THIS?” he pulled Enjolras’ palm to the straining bulge in his jeans. “Does that feel like I don’t want to have sex with you?”

“Well…no, but-“

“But what?”

“You’re obviously insecure about something, Grantaire!”

“As if I don’t have a reason to be? I can’t believe _you're_ worried that I don’t want to have sex with you, when I constantly worry that you don’t want to have sex with ME.”

Enjolras gaped. “Grantaire, how on earth could you ever think that?”

“I’m not like you, Enjolras. I’m not perfect, okay?”

“I don’t care. I love you, Grantaire. Imperfections and all.”

“It’s easy to say that when you don’t know what they are.”

Suddenly, it hit Enjolras like a freight train. “Is that…is that why I’ve never seen you naked?”

Grantaire froze and stared at him, openmouthed. “Is that what all of this is about? This whole, ‘making love to me thoroughly’ thing? Because you just want an excuse to see me naked?”

“No! Grantaire, no. I meant everything I said. I want to let the journey mean more than the destination. I want to sleep with you, and I want to take the time to experience every single sensation with you. Because that’s what you deserve. Not just desperate rutting in the bathroom of a club, or-“ he cut himself off again, sighing, taking Grantaire’s face gently in his hands. “I love you, R. And I can promise you right now, that nothing about you could ever change that. Now will you PLEASE tell me what’s wrong? Please. I need to know. I’m begging you. Look-“ he knelt before Grantaire, to show him that he was serious. “I’m on my knees, Grantaire. Please just tell me what’s bothering you. Please.”

Grantaire eyed him dubiously, raising an eyebrow. “You want to know why you’ve never seen me naked.”

“Yes.”

“Why every time we have sex at home, I try to turn the lights off.”

“And you usually succeed, yes.”

“Why I lock the bathroom door when I’m showering.”

“Peculiar as it is, yes.”

Grantaire sighed, leaning back against the wall. “Fine.” He took a deep breath, then let it out, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to find the right words. “You of all people know that I drink too much,” he began.

“Grantaire, you know that I would never-“

“It’s not ABOUT that, Enjolras. Calm down.” He sighed again, looking anywhere but at his Apollo, on his fucking KNEES in front of him. If this wasn’t such an awkward situation, that thought alone would have been enough to make him shudder. “As I was saying. Sometimes I…drink to excess. Okay. More than sometimes. And I suppose that it’s started to catch up with me.” He was blushing furiously, staring pointedly at the wall above their bed. “And…over time…drinking to excess has caused…has caused…other excesses…ones that I’m not necessarily happy with.”

Enjolras raised an eyebrow, confused. “I don’t quite follow you.”

“Jesus, do I have to spell it out for you?!” Grantaire cried, the anguish unmistakable in his tone. “Fine. Fine. I’ll spell it out. You want to know why you never see me naked? This. This is why you never see me naked.” With that, he tugged up his t-shirt to reveal a soft, doughy beer belly poking out over the waistband of his jeans. “When you drink as much as I do, you’re bound to gain a little weight…” he sighed, angrily slapping a flat palm against his belly and giving it a rough squeeze. “I’ve just happened to gain more than I would have thought. Or would have liked. And I look at you, and I look at…at THIS-“ He squeezed his belly again, leaving harsh indents with his fingertips that were sure to bruise, “And I think about how unworthy I am of you. How I’m already ugly. And a fuckup. It isn’t fair that I have to be FAT, too. And I guess…I guess…you already know that I’m a mess, Enjolras. You know that I’m nowhere near perfect. And the reason I’ve never let you see me naked? Because I didn’t want to give you yet another reason to look at me one day, and decide you didn’t want me anymore. I know it’s stupid, but-but…Enjolras? Wait…what are you doing?”

Enjolras had risen up to his knees, shaking his head. “It isn’t stupid, Grantaire…” he murmured, his face hovering dangerously close to the curve of Grantaire’s swelling tummy. The artist would have taken a step back, but the wall prevented him from doing so. “Thank you for trusting me,” Enjolras whispered, pressing an almost reverent kiss to the underside of Grantaire’s protruding stomach.

The cynic looked down at him, entirely lost for words. “I…WHAT? You mean you…you don’t think its…its…”

Enjolras shook his head. “No. Whatever you’re going to say, no. It’s part of you. And I love you. And to me, you’re fucking beautiful. Which means,” he began, standing up and leading Grantaire by the hand to their bed, motioning for him to lay down, peeling his shirt off over his head. “That I love this, too,” He murmured softly, squeezing Grantaire’s belly with gentle hands, in a way that was almost reverent. “And that to me, this is fucking beautiful.” He finished, shifting his body and bending his neck to press another kiss to the soft flesh just below Grantaire’s navel. The artist squirmed under his touch- GOD, that shouldn’t feel so good…but it did. He was torn between disbelief, and wanting to cry for joy, and relief at the prospect that Enjolras didn’t hate his body, now that he had seen it. In fact, quite the opposite seemed to be true: his Apollo, his Enjolras, was worshipping HIM. Grantaire. The last person worthy of worship. Yet here he was, layering his body with touches and kisses, the faintest flick of his tongue into his navel, the softest squeezes here and there, the firm palm against Grantaire’s shameless arousal. He mouthed along the underside of his belly, and at the outline of his erection, making the cynic shiver. “I love you, Grantaire.” Enjolras stated from where he hovered above Grantaire’s hips. “Every fucking inch of you. And tonight, I’m going to make love to you, like I promised. And when I’m done, you’re going to love yourself as much as I do. That’s a promise.”

Grantaire nodded with a moan, cupping Enjolras’ face in his hand. “I believe you.”


End file.
